Moreover, although there later were struggles over the throne, this is the last period when younger sons posed a problem. Although the impression from the later Middle Ages is that an absence of heirs to the throne was then a greater problem than a surplus of them, several kings in the following period had younger brothers, but no problems resulted from this fact. It would therefore seem that the internal struggles of this period represent the last phase in the consolidation of dynasties, whereas those in the following period represent either aristocratic or national opposition against particular forms of royal government.
Here, however, there is a difference between Norway and Denmark on the one hand and Sweden on the other. The two former seem to have created relatively stable monarchies, Norway by the middle of the thirteenth century and Denmark after the crisis of the 1330s, whereas Sweden experienced a series of rebellions and struggles over the throne in the fourteenth and fifteenth century and was without a king during most of the period from 1470 to 1523. It is tempting to seek the explanation of this in the country’s late consolidation. This might in turn have been the result of its geography, which presented greater obstacles to centralization than was the case in the two other countries. It took around three hundred years for Norway and Denmark to develop a relatively stable monarchy. As Sweden did not really begin the process until around 1250, it is perhaps not surprising that it was not finished until the first half of the sixteenth century.
There is of course no doubt that the king had to share his power with the aristocracy in medieval Scandinavia, and that this weakened his position when compared to that of the strong bureaucratic monarchies of the Early Modern Period. The king had no standing army so that his ability to fight a war depended on the support of the aristocracy, and in Norway also on the peasants; and in all three countries, kings mostly depended on members of the aristocracy for civilian government. However, the king did not face a united aristocracy, and the number of castles and their len was considerably less than the number of aristocrats competing for them. As a result, although the king’s freedom to govern the kingdom directly was limited, he could create some maneuvering room by playing the aristocrats off against one another. The aristocracy was strongest in Sweden. There several kings were deposed during the later Middle Ages and the country was even without a king for a considerable time. The Danish aristocracy was able to appropriate a large part of the royal revenues during the troubled decade from 1241 to 1340, thus weakening that kingdom. In the long run, however, the monarchy and the aristocracy of the country were able to work together. Denmark was also by far the wealthiest of the Scandinavian countries, which explains its dominating position during the following centuries. In contrast to Denmark and Sweden, the king of Norway’s reliance on the aristocracy was rather the result of the strength of the monarchy, which made it less necessary for him to recruit men from lower layers of society as a counterweight to the aristocracy. Members of the Norwegian aristocracy who were recruited to the central administration identified their interests with those of the king. Norway had the strongest monarchy of the Scandinavian kingdoms in the sense that the aristocracy depended more on the king than in the two other countries. The thirteenth-century Laws of Succession, defining kingship as hereditary, are clear evidence of this. The strength of the monarchy is also expressed in the lack of aristocratic opposition to the Norwegian king and in the late development of a council of the realm, which continued to be weaker in the later Middle Ages than the councils of the neighboring countries. Nor was there any independent aristocratic judiciary with landowners settling cases between their peasants, as existed in many other European countries. Only the Church competed with the monarchy in this field. Thus, despite its relative poverty, the Norwegian monarchy had the advantage of strength and internal unity.
Despite the fact that the secular and ecclesiastical aristocracy controlled most of the resources of the three countries, the king could exploit the competition between them to achieve greater power than the modest resources under his direct control would indicate. However, we should hardly imagine that the king’s position was based solely on the individual aristocrat’s fear of losing in the competition with his equals. More fundamentally, the medieval aristocrats’ attitude to the king is symptomatic of the general problem of social order. Even a military aristocracy has some need of social stability. Recognition of the legitimacy of the dynasty and of orderly succession, as well as the ban against killing the king, constitute evidence of the aristocracy’s acknowledgment that the king was necessary to societal order, an attitude that was probably shared by the general population. The monarch was a neutral or relatively neutral umpire between competing aristocrats and had a sacred status that distinguished him from all other members of society. At the same time, he had a personal relationship with the leading aristocrats, which made it easier for him to gain their loyalty. As we know little about the personalities of most medieval kings, it is difficult to measure the importance of this factor. Scholars therefore tend to regard conflicts between kings and noble as expressions of friction between monarchy and aristocracy, whereas in many cases they may equally well be explained by personal antagonism between the king and one or another individual aristocrat.
It may of course be debated to what extent the notion of loyalty to the king was internalized within the aristocracy and the population in general. Even if we emphasize interests rather than norms, however, there remain arguments for obeying a legitimate authority. The difference between norms and interests is that the former are usually easy to discern, while the latter are not. Once the dynasties had been established, there was rarely doubt about who was the lawful king, but it would often be difficult to know which course of action towards this ruler would be the more profitable. If someone risked losing his property, his position in society, and perhaps even his life should the king continue to rule, rebellion might be the only option, but such persons would normally form a minority. Close adherents and those who were likely to gain from their royal connections, would of course remain obedient, but the vast majority was unlikely to see any obvious advantage in either course of action. They might cheat or disobey when confident that they would not be detected, but would hardly undertake active resistance. Moreover, in addition to the uncertainty regarding the more profitable action for any individual, there is the problem that successful resistance would depend on the support of others, whose intentions might be difficult to ascertain. Consequently, even from a rational-choice point of view, there is much to be said in favor of loyalty towards legitimate authorities.
The end of regicide signals a major social change, the introduction of an authority above the contending parties which embodies the idea of an ordered society. This idea did not protect the king from opposition or even—in special cases—from deposition, but it did give him special status that made it more difficult to oppose him or to remove him than other members of society. The exalted picture of the king in sources like The King’s Mirror may seem an exaggeration to us and might to some extent have been so even in the thirteenth century, but it nevertheless expresses an essential element in the understanding of kingship at the time. The king was the guarantee of the borders of the country, which were defined as a “king”dom, and he was the guarantor of the rule of law and public justice. Thus, contemporary ideology gave him considerably greater power than his modest resources would indicate, while at the same time making him subject to some amount of control. This was in a way like squaring a circle; there was no definite answer to how to deal with the king’s abuse of his authority, but eventually the idea emerged of lawful opposition, and, in the worst case, lawful deposition. This idea was eventually stated explicitly in the election charters.
The State and the People: Nationalism and Loyalty
As in the rest of Europe, the Church was the main source of explicit ideology in Scandinavia in the Middle Ages, and the evidence of its output is overwhelming. Its precise effect on the people is more difficul
t to ascertain. Less is known about similar attempts by the monarchy. Recent debates about nationalism have focused on the question of whether this is a specifically modern phenomenon, only to be found in the period after the French Revolution, or whether it goes back to, or at least was anticipated in earlier periods, including the Middle Ages. The answer is largely a matter of definition, but there is at least some evidence of patriotic sentiments in the Middle Ages, in Scandinavia as elsewhere. Despite his strongly religious attitude, even Theodoricus Monachus, writing around 1180, gives voice to some patriotic pride at the exploits of his Viking ancestors who raided all over Europe. Saxo similarly opens his work by pointing to national pride as the main motive for writing history. As all other nations boast of their great deeds and take pleasure in remembering their ancestors, so too the Danish archbishop Absalon, always intent on the glory of his fatherland, could not bear the thought of its being cheated of such fame and remembrance. He therefore commissioned Saxo himself with the task of preserving Denmark’s heroic legacy. And Saxo did not confine his accolades to his preface; his entire narrative is filled with heroes; the Danes are a great nation and their enemies (Norwegians, Germans, and others) far inferior in virtue and military skill, only able to defeat Danes by means of treachery and deceit. In Sweden, where the writing of history began late, the early-fourteenth-century Chronicle of Erik expresses similar ideas. The prologue, praising God and his creation, soon turns to Sweden:
There can be found good men
chivalry and good heroes
who held their own against Didrik of Bern.
Didrik of Bern is the Gothic king Theodoric (493-526) who in medieval legend was transformed into one of the greatest and bravest knights of all Europe. The Swedes eventually developed a particular relationship with him by identifying themselves with the ancient Goths, allegedly the most ancient people on the earth. The connection is to be found already in a history of Gotland written in the thirteenth century, in which the Goths are said to have emigrated from this island. Later, the myth was further developed in Ericus Olai’s (Erik Olofsson’s) Chronica regni Gothorum of the 1470s or 80s. Swedish representatives at the Council of Basel (1431–1449) used the Gothic origins of the Swedes as an argument for claiming precedence, although unsuccessfully. The Chronicle of Erik continues with numerous examples of the Swedes’ heroism and great deeds. During an expedition in Karelia against the Russians, they defeat an army ten times the size of their own. When their leader, Matts Kettilmundsson—later the leader of the rebellion against King Birger—challenges the Russians to single combat, no one dares to take up the challenge, even though Matts spends the whole day waiting.
Such examples are not necessarily evidence of a strong attachment to the established kingdom; all of these sources deal as well with internal struggles and often celebrate heroes from both camps. However, we at least see here the king and the central government urging their subjects to defend the country and the common welfare against external enemies. During the war against the Swedish dukes (1308–1309), King Håkon V in a letter expresses his gratitude to the people of Trøndelag for their brave defense of their territory, adding that they will be rewarded for their efforts. Having given instructions for the coming expedition against the enemy, the king ends by expecting that they will defend “the country and their own peace and freedom.”
We cannot draw any conclusions from these statements about nationalist sentiments within the ordinary population; only that the king occasionally found it necessary to appeal to such sentiments. We are on a somewhat firmer ground when it comes to the upper classes. Although there are many examples of shifting loyalties within the elites, such as Danish outlaws who fought their own king and raided their home country, there was a sufficient amount of interest within the elites in the continued existence of independent kingdoms.
Nationalism in its nineteenth- and twentieth-century shape is often associated with poets and freedom fighters willing to die for their country, but wealthy businessmen, landowners, and bureaucrats who find their interests best served by an independent state are equally prone to nationalist sentiments, and their influence is probably greater. Nationalism is not only the willingness of idealists to sacrifice everything for an imagined community, but also an expression of the fact that every organized government relies on a number of people who are interested in its continued existence. An example of this is the promise made by his councilors to King Håkon V on his deathbed in May 1319, shortly before Norway entered its first union with Sweden, not to give foreigners military commands or administrative positions in Norway. The king may have believed that native-born men would make better rulers over his subjects than foreigners, but the initiative is more likely to have come from the Norwegian aristocracy, which certainly wanted to reserve such positions for its own members. Both the people and the aristocracy repeatedly articulated these demands in the following period of unions with Sweden and Denmark, thus illustrating the concrete interest they attached to the existence of an independent Norwegian kingdom.
The stakes in independent states were certainly less obvious in the Middle Ages than in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, but they did exist. Snorri repeatedly points to the difficulties kings experienced in establishing themselves in another country, which clearly derived from their lack of networks. There was a national elite in each country that resented attempts by foreigners to gain influence, whose own position was limited to that particular country, and who could expect prominent and advantageous positions in the royal government. A standard condition in election charters during the union period was that such positions should be reserved for a country’s own inhabitants. Moreover, while in the Viking Age raids in foreign countries and even permanent settlement there had contributed to wealth, in the High Middle Ages wealth was increasingly based on landownership. Loss of territory or increased foreign influence might threaten landowners’ interests. These considerations apply not only to the lay aristocracy but also to the Church. Although the Church was a universal organization, it was in practice largely local and territorial, having its main income from land, which, at least in Scandinavia, was mostly located within one particular country. The churchmen had the same interests as lay aristocrats in protecting their property and, in addition, needed organized government and peaceful conditions to carry out their work. Their long-term interests therefore largely coincided with those of the king, although there might be periods of conflict between the two. As we have seen, ecclesiastical ideology saw the king, who held his power from God, as a territorial king, whose power was confined to this particular territory and who had to respect the rights of his counterparts in other territories.
CHAPTER FOUR
Royal, Aristocratic, and Ecclesiastical Culture
THE SOCIAL AND INSTITUTIONAL CHANGE discussed in the previous chapters has a parallel in the cultural field, for art, architecture and literature are the products of institutions and social classes: in this case of the Scandinavian monarchy, Church, and aristocracy. The art and literature they created add to our understanding of their values and concerns. These sources also shed light on the question of change vs. continuity over time and help to untangle the threads of culture that derive from local traditions vs. European impulses.
The relationship between Scandinavia and the rest of Europe has been the subject of particularly intense discussion in the cultural field. All three kingdoms had a national-romantic movement in the nineteenth century that attempted to identify what was original to Scandinavian culture in contrast to imports from elsewhere in Europe. The work of N.F.S. Grundtvig (1783–1872) in Denmark and E. G. Geijer (1783–1847) in Sweden are prominent examples of this movement. It was particularly strong in Norway and Iceland, both of which regained or tried to regain their independence in the nineteenth century. These countries also—particularly Iceland—had the richest national tradition in the form of vernacular literature. The founders of Norwegian historical writing, R. Keyser (1803–1864) an
d P. A. Munch (1810–1863) strongly defended the specifically Norwegian character of Old Norse literature against Danish and Swedish attempts to present it as pan-Scandinavian. Later, the Icelanders in their turn claimed that it was specifically Icelandic, in opposition to Norwegian claims. Nowadays, the issue is less emotional and there is even a strong impulse in the direction of explaining Scandinavian culture as mainly the result of European influences, but the debate still goes on.
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